


Of Weeds and Seeds

by skittles4zell



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cheating, Cheesy, Developing Relationship, Drama & Romance, Language, M/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4507059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittles4zell/pseuds/skittles4zell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Zell’s grandfather dies and leaves his house to Zell, Zell is at a loss when it comes time to clean up the yard that’s in desperate need of some TLC. Enter Seifer, the hunky landscaper he hires to help manage the disaster in front of the newly inherited home. While fixing Zell’s yard and spending more time with him, Seifer contemplates his current failing relationship with Squall and ends up falling for Zell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Nestled in a cul-de-sac at the end of Monterosa Circle, stood a beautifully built two-story style home. Navy and trimmed in white with a vast yard complete with a white picket fence, it occupied many homeowners’ dreams. Now, as Zell Dincht stared past the security gate, he was at a loss for words. He couldn’t bring himself to click the button to swing the gate open and explore the property. 

Beside him, his best friend squeezed his hand and looked at him with curious green eyes. “You aren’t ready, are you?” she asked.

Zell hesitated and shook his head. “I just…” His voice trailed off as he searched for the words. This beautiful house was now legally his; surprisingly enough, his grandfather had granted him full ownership in his will. Grandpa Dincht passed away a week ago, but Zell still hadn’t fully accepted it. He’d always been close to his grandfather, the wisest and kindest man he’d ever known. He hadn’t cried at the funeral, putting on a face of resilience for his mother as she wept quietly next to him. “Selphie…” he began.

“I know,” she interrupted and squeezed his hand again. She was more than well aware that Zell, bless his heart, felt every emotion to the extreme. Sadness and grief would be no exceptions. She was, however, slightly alarmed that he’d only exhibited numbness thus far. Going through the motions but not yet processing the depth of his grandfather’s death. “Do you want me to do it?” 

Zell turned to her and cracked a small smile. “Ever the button-masher, Selphie Kinneas. Sure.”

The brunette nearly squealed with excitement. She had gotten a smile from Zell, AND she got to push the button. “With great power, comes great responsibility,” she said almost mockingly as he handed her the gate controller key fob.

He took a deep breath, unsure of the anxious emotions he was experiencing. He had known he’d have to say goodbye to his grandfather one day, but that didn’t make the pain of it any better. And now he had this new responsibility, this new endeavor, in his lap. He needed to pack up his small apartment downtown. Well, he didn’t exactly _have_ to, did he? Of course he did. It would be disrespectful not to. He’d be closer to his Ma, too. He knew he’d never hear the end of it if he decided to decline this undertaking.

“Zell?” Selphie’s voice pulled him back. “Ready?”

He nodded once. “As I’ll ever be.”

She pointed the key fob straight ahead, pushed the magic button, and with a faint beep, the strong gate creaked open. She looked to Zell to make sure he was still okay, that he hadn’t somehow broken under the motion.

Feeling her eyes on him, he nodded again but kept his eyes ahead as they began their entrance onto the premises. 

The disastrous state of the yard came as no surprise, as the two had noticed its unkempt appearance when they arrived at the house. Zell’s grandfather had spent the last months of his life in hospice care. Between Ma Dincht avoiding the issue, and Zell’s own busy schedule, nothing much had been done to keep the weeds and grass from growing uncontrollably. 

Luckily, the house was a different story. Ma Dincht and her siblings had already been to clean it and prepare it for Zell. As they explored the house, Zell found himself wondering just what he was going to do with all the space. It was a decently sized home, with three bedrooms and two full bathrooms. There was a large basement in addition to the two upper stories. Going from a modest one bedroom apartment to this would be quite an adjustment, but Zell was appreciative.  
After their tour and Selphie volunteering her husband to help clean the pool in the backyard, they found themselves sitting on the front steps of the porch to take it all in. 

“What do you think?” Selphie asked in the calmest voice Zell had heard since they’d gone inside. 

“It’s nice. Really nice.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, as if he were suddenly embarrassed that not only did he now own a home, but he owned a _nice_ home at that.

She nodded in agreement. “What about the yard?”

Here, Zell was a little lost. He’d spent most of his adult life in his current apartment, and the property management had their own groundskeepers come out and maintain the apartment complex’s various bushes and topiary. Needless to say, he didn’t have the slightest clue as to where to start or what to do in order to clean up the domestic jungle that was his front yard. “I’ll buy a mower.”

Selphie gave him a dubious look. “Zell, sweetie, you’re gonna need more than just a mower.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “But it’s a start.”

“What about a landscaping service?” 

“Do you know of any landscapers who won’t be intimidated by all this?” He gestured his hand in the direction of his yard’s expanse. "I mean, there's gotta be some poison ivy or wild animals out there."

Selphie laughed. "Landscapers are paid to, well, landscape. They shouldn't mind. And if they are attacked by some wild animal or something, I'm sure they have insurance." 

Zell grinned. Selphie was always the optimistic one. 

"You know Irvy and I have a go-to landscaper, right?" She began to fumble through her purse and pulled out a business card. "This really good-looking blonde guy owns his own company, but he looks like he should be a model or something. I mean, that's not why we hired him, but y'know... It doesn't hurt." She giggled to herself and handed Zell the card.

_*Seifer Almasy's Hyperion Lawn & Garden Care_  
We Show Weeds No Mercy  
1487 Centra Lane Suite B  
Winhill, FL 55555  
office: 555-3872  
email: sahyperion@gaia.com* 

Zell nearly scoffed at the corniness of the slogan. "Seriously?" He gave Selphie a look.

She only rolled her eyes. "Zell, looking at your yard today, I really don't think you're in any position to be picky. Just give him a call. Just at least schedule a consultation. You guys can go from there."

He knew she was right. He really didn't have any other choice but to hire this guy. He could look online for others, but he trusted Selphie’s judgement. They had been friends since elementary school, and though she could be a bit much to handle at times, she had yet to lead him astray. If this Seifer guy was good enough for her, then he couldn't possibly be all that bad. “Okay,” he said, holding onto some resignation.

The yard _was_ bad, he couldn’t deny that. Something almost scary was growing from under the porch, and the decorative trellis was being overtaken by some ruthless vines. The grass was the tallest he’d ever seen it. There was so much work that needed to be done.   
It was almost an odd, backwards parallel. Inside, the house was clean and in order. Outside, the yard was falling apart, in shambles. As opposed to Zell, who was grieving the death of his beloved grandfather. The agony of loss was wreaking havoc within him, yet his outward appearance matched the house, composed and put together. 

*

Across town, in a quaint townhome he shared with his boyfriend, one Seifer Almasy was just getting home from another day on the job. He’d finally wrapped up a project with a particularly difficult client.

“Shoes off,” his boyfriend, Squall, told him from his place on the sofa. Legs tucked under him, he didn’t even look up from the book he was reading.

Seifer refrained from rolling his eyes, as he was just about to take off his work boots anyway. He’d learned his lesson about tracking loose grass and dirt across the freshly vacuumed carpet. He tossed his keys on the stand by the door and lazily flipped through the mail, too tired to really process exactly which envelopes were bills and which were junk. “Good day?” he asked and went to the kitchen for water. 

“Yeah, you?”

“No complaints.” Seifer downed his drink quickly. The weather was getting warmer, and that meant a brighter, harsher sun watching over him as he completed various yard work duties for his clients. After placing his empty glass in the sink, he went to Squall for a better greeting. But before he could nuzzle into Squall’s space, his boyfriend leaned away from him.

“You need a shower,” Squall stated flatly.

“Are you joining me?” Seifer murmured in reply, his lips managing to make contact with Squall’s neck before he could evade him again. He was almost sure his boyfriend was going to decline; it had been ages since they’d showered together. Squall blamed the lack of space in the small shower stall of their bathroom, but sometimes Seifer thought there was more to it. 

“Sure.” Squall finally closed his book and unhooked his long legs from underneath him to stand and head towards their room.

Seifer blinked, surprised at Squall’s response. “What, really?” He followed in Squall’s direction and pulled his shirt over his head. “We haven’t - -"

“Don’t ruin it.”

With Seifer’s sturdy 6’2” frame and Squall’s own tall figure, the shower was in fact too small for them both to fit comfortably. Seifer stole kisses and contact from him, but Squall kept his defenses up. Sex was not on the menu for Seifer tonight. 

Sighing with frustration and trying not to pout, Seifer made his way out of the shower and let Squall finish in peace. He wrapped a towel tightly around his hips and plopped onto their bed to check emails on his smartphone.

Spam, spam, spam, bank statement, reminder that auto insurance was due for an update, more spam.

Squall’s phone dinged with an alert from the other side of the bed.

“Squall,” he called over the running water, “your phone’s making noises!”

“Probably my new teaching aide. It’s fine.”

Seifer made a face and shrugged to himself. He didn’t remember Squall telling him anything about a new teaching assistant. Did they even have teaching assistants at the high school level? Seifer remembered his professors had TAs in a few of his college courses way back when. But high school?

The phone dinged again, and Seifer’s curiosity got the better of him. He reached for Squall’s phone, only to be disappointed. Not only was the picture of the two of them no longer Squall’s wallpaper, but a new lock code had been put in place. The four digit code he knew and definitely remembered as his birthday (1,2,2,2) was no longer working.

Two strikes would have been enough to bruise Seifer’s ego, but when he saw the text preview on Squall’s phone screen, he became even more uneasy.

_Rinoa Heartilly  
Squally! So great seeing you at lunch today. Let’s do it again soon! _

The second message was from her, as well. A winky emoticon.

Seifer wouldn’t have thought anything of it had it been anyone else, but now he knew A) Squall had lied; it was his ex, NOT his teaching aide; B) Squall had changed his wallpaper; and C) Squall had changed his phone’s passcode. 

Having been together for a little over two years, Seifer’s jealousy had diminished drastically. It had been rough at first; Squall was a young, good-looking History teacher at the local high school. Puberty-stricken students drooled over him throughout the school year. It was petty jealousy; Seifer knew Squall would never reciprocate their affections. However, it didn’t stop at the students. Seifer had noticed a few teachers eyeing his boyfriend when they attended functions together. 

And now, here, his ex-girlfriend was back in the picture? 

_Exes are exes for a reason_ , he reminded himself, but it failed to appease his discomfort.

When Squall finally reappeared, raking a towel through his dark brown locks, Seifer told him, “It’s Rinoa.” He took a small bit of pride in his ability to not snap the statement.

Squall stiffened and dropped the towel from his head. “How’d you get into my phone?”

“Really? That’s the issue here?” Now Seifer couldn’t keep the bite from his voice.

“The fact that you’re snooping? Yes, that’s the issue.” Squall reached and grabbed his phone from Seifer’s grasp. He stalked to the dresser, yanked a pair of pajama bottoms out, and left the room. 

Seifer was truly at a loss for words as he stared blindly at Squall’s retreating back. Were they not even going to talk about it? About Rinoa? About _lunch_ with Rinoa? About the passcode? Nothing? True, Squall was rarely up for lengthy debates, but still. This was an important, potentially relationship changing conversation they should have.

Too prideful to crawl to Squall to press the issue further, Seifer divested himself of the towel and climbed into bed. He had no appetite for whatever dinner would have been, and all he wanted to do was sleep and hope that tomorrow would turn out better.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seifer meets his newest client, and it doesn’t go horribly.

When Seifer made it to his office the next morning, he was pleased to find his office assistant, Fujin, already behind her desk. If Seifer considered himself the muscle behind his company, Fujin was the brains. She was in charge of various duties such as scheduling clients and handling the paperwork end of his landscaping business. She wasn’t the most talkative or the friendliest, for that matter. She was, however, fiercely loyal and noticeably more productive than his last assistant, Ellone. 

“Morning,” she greeted, typing at her computer.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Seifer asked, opting to sidestep the civilities. Not that Fujin cared to hear much about his day thus far. It was just a “morning,” not a good morning. Squall had slept on the sofa after their fight, if Seifer could even call it that. He hoped they could have a better talk about it tonight. He wasn’t an insecure lover by any means, but Rinoa made him uneasy. Seifer leaned over and looked at Fujin’s desk calendar, distracting himself with work.

“Three clients today. Mister Cid Kramer at eleven to ensure he’s satisfied with his Kentucky grass. Miss Quistis Trepe at twelve to follow up on her rose garden. Lunch at one. Then a new client, Zell Dincht, at two. He’s already faxed his signed liability forms.” She finally paused her typing and slid her chair to the filing cabinet to retrieve his folder. 

“You act like this is my first rodeo.” Seifer took the paperwork and gave it a quick glance.

She only offered a shrug of her thin shoulders. “Here is the Maintenance Agreement for you both to fill out and sign today at the initial consultation.”   
He had been nodding along, only half-listening because he knew she’d already emailed all his appointments to keep him on track. His day sounded promising enough; hopefully he could stay occupied to prevent his mind from wandering further. “Thanks, Fu.” He headed to his own office to catch up on a few things before he headed out for the day. 

*

Seifer’s day continued well enough. His meetings with his two clients went smoothly, and he was on his way to Zell Dincht’s house. It was a bright afternoon in April with sparse traffic. His mood had improved substantially, as he’d nearly forgotten his disagreement with Squall. 

But when he pulled into Zell’s driveway and stopped in front of the gate, he couldn’t help but be disappointed and a tad discouraged when he caught sight of the yard. There was no mistaking that he was in the right place. Before he had even made it past the threshold to the premises, he could spot how dangerous the grass was. And the weeds; oh God, the weeds. There were unruly bushes here and over there and what was that growing over there?

His grip on the steering wheel of his company truck tightened. He thought about putting the vehicle in reverse and never looking back. But no; Seifer was not a quitter. He was a former Army soldier with a knack for business and landscaping. And unfortunately, sometimes that meant not knowing when to walk away.

Seifer rolled his window down and reached out to page Zell from the callbox.

“’ello?” a voice crackled from the other end.

“Seifer Almasy, here from Hyperion Lawn and Garden Care. We have a two o’clock appointment.”

There was a pause, and then: “Two? It’s only one thirty!” the voice replied indignantly.

Seifer tried not to bang his head on the steering wheel. His frustration was beginning to tease out a headache. “Early bird catches the worm, right?” he replied with an insincere cheeriness.

A huff from the other line. “Yeah, yeah. Hold on. Lemme just…” A clunk and some fumbling around. “Still trying to figure this damn thing out. Oh yeah. Here!” 

The voice must have figured it out because the security gate opened. Seifer was about to try for polite and reply with a thank you, but there was a distinct beep to signify the interaction with the voice was over.

This Tuesday was beginning to feel more and more like a Monday. He sighed to himself and drove the remainder of the driveway, stopping in front of the two-car garage. Before climbing from his truck, he grabbed his clipboard and pen for notes as well as the contract information. Once out, he had an even better view of the yard, for better or worse.

He’d need to fix that. And it probably wouldn’t hurt to cut those. Fertilize over there. And destroy the kudzu, _always_ destroy the kudzu. He was shaking his head and clicking his tongue in disapproval when he heard the front door on the porch open and close. He looked up. “Mister Dincht?” 

The blonde he assumed to be Zell squinted up at the sun before sliding a pair of sunglasses onto his face. “Damn, it’s bright out, ain’t it?” Zell regarded the taller blonde below for a moment from behind his sunglasses. Selphie had been right when she mentioned he was good-looking, despite the faded scar between his eyes. He stepped down the porch steps to stand in front of Seifer, wiped his right hand on his baggy gym shorts before sticking it out for the other man to shake. “Name’s Zell. Don’t call me ‘mister.’ Makes me feel old.” He grinned. “You must be that Seifer guy.”

Seifer shook his hand politely and smirked a bit at how much shorter the man looked now that they were on the same level. He briefly considered telling the cute blonde that his nametag did in fact proclaim him to be Seifer, but he decided against it. He was a smartass, take it or leave it. But he knew when, where, and to whom he could behave as such. “Seifer Almasy. Got quite a jungle out here,” he stated, making note of the weeds tangling themselves under the porch’s steps.

“Gee, thanks for noticing,” Zell said, rolling his eyes. “That’s why I called you.”

_What a brat_ , Seifer thought to himself before absent-mindedly scribbling more notes. “Look, there’s no need to get snappy, _Mister_ Dincht. I can fix your yard up in no time.”

_Jerk._ Zell puffed his chest a bit in defiance. “Good, ‘cause I ain’t payin’ ya to sit on your ass all damn day.”

If Seifer had been anyone else, he probably would have ended the meeting right there. Except he wasn’t anyone else, and he found himself rather amused by the guy’s slight Napoleon complex. Here, he opted to test the boundaries of his latest client. “Of course not. You’re paying me to fix up the castle yard so the dragons and other fiends lurking out here won’t attack your suitors. How will Prince Charming ever find his princess, if the princess can’t even find her own castle?” He winked and brushed past a shocked Zell.

More than a little shocked at this guy’s brazen attitude, Zell sputtered. “What are you tryin’ to say?!”

“It was an analogy, Mister Dincht,” Seifer told him and waved his free hand dismissively. “Now, what exactly do you want to accomplish? Just a fix up?” he inquired, looking down in the shrubbery along the side of the house as he jotted more notes.

Zell thought anyone who made lame analogies like that were really trying to over-compensate for things they lacked. Apparently, this guy had a lot to compensate for. He huffed and tried not to let the sexy stranger get to him. “Well, yeah. A fix up would be cool. Ya know, and trim the hedges and maybe plant some flowers along in ‘ere.” He motioned with his arms, designating the area. “These yellow ones can stay, though. They’re pretty.”

Seifer looked up from his notes to see what flowers Zell was talking about. He hadn’t noticed any yellow flowers when he was making his list of plants in the yard. “What flowers, the dandelions?” He frowned. “ _Taraxacum officinale_ ,” Seifer muttered to himself as he made a note of it.

“Tara-what?”

“ _Taraxacum officinale_ ,” he repeated. “Scientific classification for dandelions. You don’t want them to stay. They’re actually weeds.”

Zell’s jaw dropped as if this statement was the most blasphemous thing he had ever heard. “They are not!” he argued. He honestly didn’t know either way; Zell just knew he liked them. His mind replayed a memory – sitting on the porch with his grandfather, sharing a glass of peach tea, blowing the gray parachutes of the dandelions into the wind as they wished for money and world peace. 

Seifer squatted in front of said dandelions and examined them. “Suckers are annoying.” He clicked his tongue and added notes.

"So they can't stay?" 

The guy sounded so sincerely discouraged by the prospect, Seifer almost felt guilty. "At the end of the day, it's your yard. If you want them, you can keep them. If you want my professional opinion, however, they're not the most aesthetic option. You've seen them turn from yellow to gray?" He waited for confirmation before continuing, "And then those gray things go everywhere. Next thing you know, your whole yard is nothing but dandelions."

Zell frowned, hands on his hips as he stood close by and watched Seifer examine the dandelions. 

Seifer stood. "Once we get your grass cut and your hedges trimmed, we can go over other options. I'll find some visuals, let you see what flowers we can put in place of these."

The shorter man considered this for a moment. He had noticed how the dandelions seemed to be spreading, even in the short time since he’d moved into the house. He wasn’t necessarily keen on having a yard full of them. “I guess I trust your judgement.”

“Good.” Seifer smiled. “Now, these are my notes so far, if you’d like to look over them. And there is some paperwork you’ll have to sign before we can get started, in addition to what you’ve already sent in.”

Zell had never been a fan of paperwork, but he supposed it was a necessary evil. “Sure. Um, you wanna come in?”

“That would make things easier,” replied Seifer, his smile now falling into a smirk.

“You always such a smartass?” Zell asked and led the way up his porch and into his home. He slid his sunglasses onto his head, and they rested easily against his spiked blonde hair.

Seifer decided to tone it back a bit; Zell was in fact a customer. He couldn’t really antagonize him the way he felt compelled to. He wondered where the feeling came from. Somehow, Zell just seemed like an easy target, walking himself right into the potential for jokes and sarcasm. He apologized half-heartedly as he looked around his client’s home. It was a nice two-story structure, from what Seifer could tell. It looked like Zell hadn’t been there for very long, with a few moving boxes spread throughout the house’s space. He followed Zell to the dining room, where at least there was a dark mahogany table with matching chairs. He sat in one and laid out the paperwork Zell would need to sign.

Zell took a chair as well, having turned it around so he could straddle it and lean over its back. “Should my lawyer be here for all this?” Zell gestured at the documents with the pen Seifer had handed him. 

“Who’s the smartass now?” Seifer quipped back before remembering he’d told himself to tone it down just seconds ago. 

Zell grinned in response, and Seifer took it as a blessing. “Touché.” 

Once all the paperwork had been signed and dated, Seifer packed up and headed back towards his truck. “I’ll give Fujin this information, and she’ll get you scheduled accordingly,” he said to Zell who had followed him outside to see him off. “Raijin is one of my assistants; she’ll probably send him out first to mow the lawn.” He shook Zell’s hand. “We’ll be in touch, Mister Dincht.”

“What did I say about ‘mister?’ Don’t call me that.” Zell scowled, still annoyed.

“Is ‘Princess’ better?” Seifer joked but didn’t give Zell time to be offended. “It was nice meeting you. We’ll work out a schedule and go from there.”

Nodding his agreement, Zell didn’t get hung up on the nickname. He watched Seifer climb into his truck and waved amicably as he drove off. 

On the way home, Seifer tried to call Squall but didn’t get an answer. He frowned at the time on his dashboard. Squall was definitely finished with school for the day. He thought of Rinoa, with her dark hair and ivory skin. If Squall was getting bored in his relationship with Seifer, he hoped his boyfriend would have the decency to discuss it with him first, not Rinoa. 

Seifer turned on the radio, but didn’t pay attention to NPR’s current talk. Instead, he caught himself thinking of Zell’s bright blue eyes and interesting demeanor. Seifer had definitely never met anyone like him before, and he didn’t quite know what to make of him.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selphie is inappropriate, and Zell invites Seifer over for dinner.

After about a week of avoiding Selphie, Zell agreed to meet up with her for overpriced coffee downtown. He knew she had questions to ask, wanting nothing more than to pry into his life and get him talking about something scandalous. She was his best friend, and he loved her dearly. But honestly, he was still grieving the death of his grandfather. On top of that, he was adjusting to his new home. It was foreign, despite its familiarity. Zell was able to work through the toughest part of his mourning, pouring himself into unpacking and moving into the home. He’d done it all alone, citing that he needed time and space to process this new chapter of his life. 

Zell was beginning to think he’d made her suffer long enough without him and his life details. Thus, he found himself fiddling with the cardboard of his hot drink, listening politely as she rambled on about Irvine and his work drama.

“So,” Selphie began, ready to dive into Zell’s business. She nudged his leg with her foot under their table, “what’s going on with Seifer?” She was now leaning forward on her elbows, greedy for information.

“Seifer?” Zell repeated, and the name sounded foreign, despite the work the landscaper had accomplished. The grass was cut, the hedges were trimmed, and the kudzu was a distant memory for now, until it would grow its way back up the trellis. But this was not information Selphie was interested in. She wanted more. She wanted to know if there was anything blossoming with Seifer. The pun was not lost on Zell.

“Yeahhhh, Seifer! The major hottie who’s been toiling away in your yard. I did a slow drive-by the other day. It looks great.”

“You’re such a stalker,” he said, slightly annoyed. 

She shrugged, impervious to the insult. “Spill.”

Zell legitmately didn’t have juicy gossip to “spill.” Seifer had the code to get past Zell’s security gate, so he hadn’t needed to be home while he and his team were doing their work. Zell was able to keep his normal schedule at the kickboxing gym he co-owned. For the most part, Seifer and his crew were gone by the time Zell made it home. In the few times they’d seen each other, they exchanged simple courtesies. _Hey, how’s it going? Great, yeah. The yard looks awesome. Thanks, see ya_.

Yeah, the guy was hot, and Selphie wasn’t a mind reader, but she knew Zell thought so. But physical attraction only went so far, and that’s all Zell had established. He did at least appreciate Seifer’s work ethic, even if the jerk was still jokingly calling him ‘Princess.’

“I dunno, Selph. I got nothin’.”

“Grrrr! You’re killin’ me.” Her face scrunched into an unattractive pout.

Zell laughed. “What exactly are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. You’re single, and I’m married. I like to live vicariously through you.”

“Poor Irvine.”

“He’s fine. He’d do the same if you were straight.” Selphie sipped her green tea for a few moments. The thoughtful expression on her face worried Zell. “We gotta get some intel on him. Figure out his story.”

“Selphie, I’m not creeping on the landscaper.”

“Of course not. We’ll make it very normal, non-creepy.”

Zell had the image of her in all black, sneaking down from the guy’s attic Mission Impossible-style. Nothing she could say would make him feel any more comfortable about the situation.

She continued, “Y’know, make convo. Invite him inside.”

“Remember when I told you I’m not looking to date anyone right now?”

“I’m not saying you have to date. Maybe just,” she paused and leaned forward to whisper, “some assault with a friendly weapon. Or a bedroom rodeo, as Irvy likes to call it.” Selphie giggled into her hand, pleased with herself.

Zell groaned, embarrassed and a little grossed out by the reference. He did _not_ want the image of his friends having sex in his mind. “You’re insane.”  
“At least I still have my courage. Coward.”

“I’m not a coward! I just think he’s straight, probably shacking up with some leggy, busty girl with blonde hair to match his.” 

“Only one way to find out.”

*

The status quo in Seifer’s relationship with Squall had returned. After a surprisingly calm discussion about honesty, trust, and communication and a round of detached make up sex, things had returned to some state of normalcy. They met up for a weekly dinner with Squall’s father, and they laughed and joked in a manner that would have disintegrated any signs of trouble in paradise. Things weren’t _good_ , but then again, they hadn’t been _good_ in quite some time.

Regardless, Seifer was ill-prepared for the rush of attraction that swept over him when he arrived at Zell’s for their weekly appointment. He hadn’t expected him to be home, as Zell was usually absent during Seifer’s visits, but there he was, at the end of his driveway tending to his mailbox. A backwards baseball cap was atop his blond head, and a pair of baggy workout shorts sat at his hips. With Zell’s torso bare, Seifer got a good look at his sun-kissed skin and the large tribal tattoo that decorated much of his upper left shoulder. There was another tattoo spiraling down his back, and Seifer’s eyes wandered down to its ends, where it stopped right above his lower back dimples. Zell’s body was muscular without being obnoxious, and Seifer appreciated every inch of it.

“Whatcha think?” Zell asked, having finished up what he’d been so seriously concentrated on. He had repainted his family name on the mailbox; the faded white paint now bright and new.

“Would look better with some flowers down at the base,” Seifer replied without missing a beat. He may have been staring, but he could still manage some professionalism. 

Zell appraised the base of the mailbox and nodded with agreement. “Yeah, probably.”

“Nice hat,” Seifer told him and smiled when Zell tugged at the stray blond strands that stuck through the hole above the adjuster snaps. “It would work better if you had it on the right way. How long have you been out here?”

“Huh? How long?” Zell frowned and shifted his stance self-consciously. "Totally irrelevant." 

"Not irrelevant. You're starting to burn. Means you’re on track for dehydration.” 

"Thanks, _Mom_. What are you, a doctor now, too?" Zell scowled at the admonishment. 

“Nah, the doctor gig seemed too stuffy for me,” Seifer retorted before changing the subject, “I wasn’t expecting you to be home today.”

“Eh, I had a client cancel on me. Had to reschedule his session.” 

Seifer didn’t know what kind of clients Zell had, but he certainly knew what unreliable clients were like. “Well, do you want me to wait for you or can I go ahead and do my job?”

“Go ahead. I’ll meet you by the house in a minute.” He bent and began to gather his painting materials as Seifer resumed his drive up the driveway.

*

Despite Zell hovering nearby, Seifer was able to get most of his work done for the day. Zell’s yard really didn’t require much additional attention, but Seifer was gathering measurements and miscellaneous statistics he needed should Zell want a flowerbed or other decorative options. Thankfully, Zell wasn’t as distracting as Seifer thought he’d be. He asked a lot of questions, and Seifer liked that he wanted to be involved in the process.

Seifer was just about to wrap up their session and head home when his phone began to ring in his pocket. It was Squall’s tone, almost serving as a guilty reminder that he shouldn’t like anything Zell did, shirtless or not.

"Excuse me for a moment," he told Zell and stepped aside to answer his phone. "Hi, love," he greeted, happy to speak to his boyfriend despite their recent difficulties.  
"Seifer, hi," Squall's voice sounded tense. "I wanted to let you know I won't be home for dinner tonight."

On the list of things Seifer appreciated about Squall was his ability to get to the point. No frivolous words or gestures. He said what he needed to say, and that was that. However, now, right here, in front of an attractive client, it bothered Seifer. "Busy night at the classroom?" Seifer sneered into the phone. His previous joy in hearing from Squall had diminished quickly.

Zell was trying not to eavesdrop close by, but he cringed at Seifer's tone. Whoever had called Seifer must be someone important to him, if the person was able to warrant such an emotional response. 

"There's a fundraising dinner tonight, remember? I'm chaperoning.”

The tall blond quickly scanned through his mental planner. A dinner? He didn't remember Squall mentioning one. A lecture here, a luncheon there. But no dinner recently. Maybe he had missed Squall telling him, between their argument and making up. 

"Seifer?" Squall ventured.

"Yeah, that's fine. Sorry I didn't remember."

Squall sighed. In relief? Contempt? "It's okay. I'll be home later tonight."

"Right. Have fun."

"Mhm." And with that, his boyfriend hung up. No ‘I love you.' Not even a sincere goodbye.

Zell cleared his throat. "Everything cool, man?" He felt awkward, having unintentionally listened to the one side of the conversation. Not to mention watching Seifer’s expression go through exasperation, pain, and back to annoyance. 

Seifer was rarely one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but his aggravation showed as he snapped, "It's fine."

Zell recoiled visibly but shrugged it off. He was only curious and didn't like seeing Seifer's good looks contorted. "My bad. Just askin'."  
"Never mind. I’m nearly finished here.”

"Look, man, if you'd rather just wait till..." Zell trailed off.

" _Princess_ ," he started through clenched teeth, "I have just about all I need to wrap up here. So I’m going to finish what I need to do, whether you like it or not. You don’t even need to be out here. Go put a shirt on, get some water, whatever. I don’t care.” With this said, Seifer moved to continue his inspection. He began voicing his notes as he wrote more on his clipboard, "It probably wouldn’t hurt to come back out with the weed eater; I see where they missed some spots in through there. Also need to tackle whatever is under the porch. I’ll email - -“

"You wanna stay for dinner?" Zell blurted suddenly. He figured the only way to shut him about the damn landscape was to throw him a curveball. He hoped it wouldn't throw him into another hissy fit.

Clearly caught off guard, Seifer blinked. "What?"

Zell's face flushed, discomfited by his own nerve. Out of habit, he rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. "Well, it sounded like someone bailed on you - sorry for listening, by the way - and I thought you could use some company who isn't your girlfriend or assistant or whatever." Zell felt like he was rambling. Hell, he _heard_ himself rambling. What was he doing? Aside from asking his hot landscaper to stay for dinner? He didn't even know if the guy was in a relationship. Probably, from the sound of his phone call. He could picture Selphie perfectly, cheering him on as he obliviously took her advice. 

"Are you cooking?" Seifer's asked, amused at Zell’s sudden confidence and corresponding embarrassment. He wasn’t entirely sure about this new development, the potential of crossing into a friendly relationship with Zell. Especially when there was an attraction lingering underneath the surface. 

Zell's eyes brightened. "I was going to. Or we could go out. Either way - -”

"I'd really enjoy a home-cooked meal, since it's being prepared by such a lovely princess and all."

He made a face at the nickname. "I'll cook for you as long as you don't call me that."

Seifer chuckled. "Deal. And this will give us a chance to draw out some plans for a flowerbed, if you like that idea," he tried to make this dinner seem as professional as possible. "I've got some photos in my truck."

The grin that followed was infectious. “Awesome. Come on in.”


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing wrong with a little friendly bonding with your customer, right?

Seifer refused to let paranoia ruin his mood; the fact that Squall bailed on him had already done that for him. On the bright side, however, Zell’s friendly gesture of inviting him for dinner helped Seifer to feel better. 

Once they entered Zell’s home, Seifer was surprised to see the house in a much better state than he remembered it during their first meeting. He hadn’t expected Zell to be a neat freak, but the house was immaculate. The other man looked to be fully moved in, as there were no more cardboard boxes cluttering the floor. His drapes complimented his sofa which matched the carpet perfectly. Seifer recognized the mahogany dining room table and rather liked the decorative centerpiece now occupying it. The only visible mess was in the foyer. There was a colorful line of sneakers spread beneath the accent table, pressed against the wall and cluttered with mail. 

“Hey, man, is it cool if I grab a shower real quick? I feel gross.” Zell examined stray flecks of white paint on his skin before sniffing his underarm and making a face. “Yeah, gross. Aaaand I might need to go grocery shopping, so maybe a pizza instead?” His face was apologetic enough that Seifer couldn’t be bothered that Zell had gone back on his word about a home cooked meal. 

Besides, a home cooked meal was a just a tad on the intimate side, wasn’t it?

“Sure thing. You’re the host.”

Zell grinned. “That I am.” He filtered through the mess of papers on the foyer’s table and gave a triumphant “Aha!” when he found coupons. He gestured for Seifer to go into the living room while he wandered into the kitchen. 

Seifer could hear him speaking amicably to the pizza place as he stood awkwardly and looked around, taking in his surroundings. It was a decent distraction, getting glimpses into Zell’s life via the pictures and trophies on the mantelpiece. The conversation with Squall was drifting father into the recesses of Seifer’s mind. He had gotten fairly good at tucking his emotions away in the past few weeks. 

Zell returned with a beer and handed it to Seifer. “Here. Pizza will be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Not the standard thirty to forty-five?” 

“Nah, I know ‘em pretty well.” Zell’s blue eyes twinkled with pride. “Make yourself at home.” He trotted upstairs and a few minutes later, Seifer heard the water of Zell’s shower.

While he waited, Seifer made himself comfortable on the sofa and drank his beer. 

Zell returned eventually in a faded Florida State University t-shirt and a clean pair of his now trademark basketball shorts. Seifer was beginning to ponder on how many pairs he owned and in how many different colors. “You look like a sports guy,” Zell commented and turned the television on to ESPN.

Seifer chuckled as Zell fell onto the other end of the sofa. “No, not really.” 

“Damn. I’m usually pretty good at reading people.” He frowned, shrugging. “Oh, you want another beer?” Zell jumped up in a flash of excited energy and made for the kitchen. He returned with the case of beer, napkins, and plates, but the doorbell rang before he could sit back down. 

Seifer listened as Zell and the delivery guy chatted for a bit before Zell closed the door and came back with the pizza. “They have the code to get past your gate?”

“I told you I was cool with ‘em,” he said with a grin as he dug into one of the pizza boxes. “So if you’re not a sports guy, what’s your thing, other than lawn service?”

“My thing?”

“Yeah. Everyone has a thing.” Zell chewed thoughtfully on a bite of cheese pizza. “There’s this martial arts gym downtown. I co-own it with my friend Tifa. We do classes, maybe about fifteen to twenty people at a time and the occasional individual lesson. That’s why I was off today, guy couldn’t make it to his session. Anyway, I say all that ‘cause martial arts is my job, and I love it, but cooking is my thing.”

“The pizza delivery guy begs to differ,” Seifer responded and took a sip from his second beer. The alcohol was helping to melt away any apprehension he felt about crossing that invisible line from strictly professional relationship to friendly acquaintanceship. Seifer had been silently marveling at Zell’s voracious appetite, for he was on his third slice of pizza now, having quickly eaten the previous two. But now that he’d heard what Zell did for a living, Zell’s well-kept figure made sense. Sure, Seifer did a good deal of manual labor – he didn’t leave _all_ the hard work for his team – and an occasional cardio session on a treadmill, but Zell obviously took care of himself and put effort into his physique. 

Zell tilted his head back and laughed. “Smartass. I’ll cook for you and your girlfriend one day, just to prove my point.”

Whether it had been intentional or not, Seifer was amused at how smoothly Zell was able to segue to that topic. “I’d have to get a girlfriend first, and I don’t see that happening. Ever.” The confused look Zell gave him in return was priceless. Seifer waited to see if Zell was bold enough to press further.

“Wait, but wasn’t that your girlfriend who called earlier? The one who bailed on you?”

Seifer shook his head. “No.” He chewed slowly on his own pizza, half-listening to the sports news playing quietly in the background as he watched Zell struggle to put two and two together. 

“Your mom bailed on you?” he asked finally, completely and utterly appalled.

He laughed so hard he had to put his pizza down and take another drink. “My boyfriend. He has some school function tonight.”

“Ohhhh.” Zell was nodding his head agreeably. “Well, I’ll cook for you and your boyfriend one day,” he replied around his chewing. 

Seifer respected the acceptance and kindness in Zell’s reply, but it was an awkward concept for Seifer to accept himself. Just upon seeing Zell today, he’d been faced with an attraction that bordered lust. Zell was gorgeous, and Seifer couldn’t deny it, regardless of his relationship status. He was curious about Zell’s tattoos, about his work, about his life. He wanted to tease him and get reactions out of him. There was a potential crush brewing beneath the surface, and he wasn’t sure that any interaction between Zell and Squall could be anything less than uncomfortable. “He has a busy schedule,” Seifer said at last. 

“Yeah, kinda sucks. Bailing on you and all.”

He thought to defend Squall; Seifer had been the one to forget his boyfriend had other plans, hadn’t he? Something about the situation didn’t sound right, however, and Seifer decided against explaining the conversation further. Instead, he resolved to simply enjoy the pizza, beer, and Zell’s company. 

“I bet you’re into something boring,” Zell spoke up after a few moments of comfortable silence as they ate. “Like collecting stamps.”

“I’m sorry?” Seifer said, caught off guard and only slightly amused.

“Your thing, remember? You’re into something dumb, I just know it. That’s why you haven’t said anything.”

“First of all, the conversation went in a different direction. Second of all, it’s nothing boring.”

“So what is it?” 

Seifer hesitated a moment, unsure of his willingness to open the door and let Zell into his life, just this little bit. Hell, he’d already told him about his relationship status. They were having pizza and beer in Zell’s home. Telling him a hobby wouldn’t be that far off from the comfortability they’d already established. “Photography,” Seifer replied after a moment.

Zell’s face brightened with eager curiosity. “Oh! That’s actually kinda neat. Like, you take pictures of your boyfriend?”

He shook his head a little too quickly. “Not at all. Landscapes and scenery mostly.” 

Zell chewed thoughtfully on what was left of his pizza crust. “I don’t know if that counts, considering you deal with landscapes and scenery ‘cause of your job.”

“Good thing you aren’t the Hobby Police then, huh?” Seifer retorted. 

Zell didn’t look affected by Seifer’s jab. “So how long have you been together, you and your boyfriend?”

Caught off guard yet again by Zell’s change of subject, Seifer faltered as he tried to remember. “Uh, two years, maybe?”

Zell looked doubtful. “You don’t sound so sure.”

Seifer’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me for thinking this was going to be a friendly dinner and not an interrogation.”

His face fell in response to Seifer’s annoyance. “You’re right, man. Sorry.” He leaned back into the sofa, shoulders slumped.

“Sorry,” Seifer said uneasily. “I’m not used to this ‘twenty questions’ thing.” It was true; everyone in his life already knew everything they needed to know. He made just enough conversation with Squall to ensure their time spent together wasn’t awkwardly silent, and he worked with his best friend, Raijin, so they talked mostly about their clients. 

Zell laughed easily. “No big deal. Just trying to be friendly.” He grinned and pulled himself forward, seemingly carefree yet again.

He nodded and finished off his third beer, cutting himself off from further drinks. “So… Your house is nice. Kinda big for just you, though.”

Seifer didn’t miss the brief darkening of Zell’s face as his emotions seemed to change again, but Zell was smiling before Seifer could make mention of it. “Yeah! It was my grandpa’s. He died recently and left it to me.” He rubbed his knees and looked around, as if he was taking in the living quarters for the first time. “I like the space, though. Better than my shoddy apartment before.”

“Oh, sorry to hear about your grandfather.” Seifer winced. He hadn’t known his attempt at conversation would lead to something painful for Zell. Maybe they weren’t cut out for this friendliness thing after all. 

“It happens, right?” Zell shrugged. “That’s actually why I was kinda attached to the dandelions. We used to, like, bond over them.”

Seifer pondered over this information for a minute. “Well, what about forsythia?” The idea came to him suddenly, and he was glad for the chance to help keep the memory of Zell’s grandfather alive. “It’s bright yellow, like the dandelions. But it grows more as a shrub so it’s much more contained.”

Zell was grinning broadly all over again, and Seifer could tell he was excited at the prospect. “That sounds awesome!”

“Here.” Seifer found the portfolio he’d brought in with him, thumbing through the photos before he found the picture he wanted. “See? If we plant one near the porch, it would require some regular maintenance, but I think it’d look great.”

Zell leaned in closer and marveled over the picture Seifer showed him. “Yeah! Let’s do that.”

Seifer made a note of their tentative plans for the forsythia, grateful that they had accomplished at least a minimum amount of actual business today; their appointment hadn’t been a total waste. 

From there, their evening continued pleasantly enough. Zell didn’t seem too bothered by Seifer bringing up an obviously unpleasant subject, as his attention became more focused on their plans for his yard. Seifer was beginning to like that about Zell, that he could be honest with his emotions but not get too caught up in his own feelings. 

When it was time to leave, the shadows from the day had given way to the darkness of night. Seifer hadn’t realized how late it had gotten, not that he minded. He hadn’t heard from Squall since he’d called earlier, so his boyfriend must not have been bothered by his absence.

“Y’know you can call me any time, right?” Zell told Seifer as he walked him out to the driveway. “Like, if you need a friend or whatever. There’s more to life than working all the time, and you shouldn’t forget that.”

Seifer cocked his head and smiled, amused at Zell’s philosophical side. “Same goes to you. Here.” He paused and scribbled his personal number on a crumpled napkin from his truck. “Don’t abuse it, Princess.”

Zell laughed and rolled his eyes. “I thought we were past that!”

“Not quite.” Seifer hoisted himself into his vehicle and gave Zell a wave. “I need to finalize these plans. We’ll be in touch. Thanks for the pizza.”

He returned the wave and grinned. “Anytime.”

Seifer reversed and let his truck roll from Zell’s driveway out into the cul-de-sac. Once he made it home and crawled into bed beside a sleeping Squall, he reflected on his evening. There was something refreshingly easy and relaxed about Zell’s personality. His sense of humor consisted of cheesy jokes (“What do you call a fake noodle? An impasta!”) that Seifer would have found annoying if Zell’s laughter wasn’t so contagious. He was open and willing to show emotions, a bright spark in his eye and a wide grin. He was nothing like the sleeping man next to him, and whereas Seifer thought he should feel bad for thinking so, he didn’t feel guilty in the least.

*

Zell climbed tiredly out of bed the next morning. He was headachy from the alcohol the night before, even if he hadn’t gotten drunk. Just another reminder he was getting older. He soldiered through his morning routine: five mile run at the park, thirty minutes with his punching bag, shower, and quick errands before ending up at his gym. 

His phone dinged before he left his car to go inside. 

A text from Selphie: _Saw a Hyperion truck at your house last night. I’m thinking you have details to spill now. ;]_

Zell rolled his eyes and deftly typed out a response: _Stop stalking me. None of your business._

She didn’t reply, and for that, Zell was grateful. He knew what Selphie wanted to hear. He hadn’t forgotten their conversation from before, when she was harassing him to sleep with Seifer. He needed to tell her the guy was definitely in a relationship and very much off limits. He’d have to leave out the part about him being in a gay relationship, though. Selphie would continue pressing it if she knew Seifer were gay, no matter what his relationship status was. 

He leaned his head against the seat’s headrest, caught up in his own thoughts. Seifer intrigued him. He was so invested in his work and wanted nothing less than the best for his clients. Zell could respect that. Part of him was the same way, but Zell knew Seifer was beyond dedicated to the results he put forth. All things considered, that was a good quality to have; the world needed more people like Seifer. Dedicated, hard-working, and attractive with a take-charge attitude.  
Zell blinked at his own thoughts. Seifer was in no position for Zell to start crushing on him. “Ugh!” He shook his head to himself and grabbed his gym bag and left his car, ready to start the day. He needed to busy himself and get Seifer out of his thoughts. Right as he was poised to unlock the door of his gym and head inside, his phone dinged again. He grimaced; he had hoped he’d avoided Selphie until later.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the name.

Seifer.

 _Have a good day, Princess_.


End file.
